Arabella || Peaky Blinders [Michael Gray]

eighteen

Chapter Eighteen
"I'll be there."

Arabella sighed heavily with exhaustion as she crouched down in front of Karl, trying to straighten out the little bugger's incredibly dishevelled hair. "Right, come on then you," she mumbled as she took the young boy's hand, allowing him to drag her over towards Ada, who was fussing with the placement of her hat in preparation for the group photo. "You look lovely," Arabella assured her as Karl released her hand, wrapping his small arms around his mother's legs instead.

"Thank you," Ada smiled appreciatively, bending down to pick up her son. "Are you sure Mallory is okay keeping an eye on him today? He's been so fussy lately."

"Absolutely," Arabella smiled assuringly, knowing just how much Mallory loved kids. She had an incredibly higher tolerance than Arabella had, and would probably ever have in her entire life, which made her the perfect and trusted candidate to keep an eye on the Shelby children.

"Arabella," Tommy spoke from behind her, placing a cigarette between his teeth. "You getting in the photo or what?"

"Um..." Arabella trailed off as she turned to face him, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. "I thought it was family only?"

"It is," Tommy replied nonchalantly, clasping a hand on her shoulder. "Come on now, we don't have all day."

Arabella, a little bewildered, turned towards the rest of the Shelby family, heading towards the back of the group. Polly gave her a small smile, pleased to see her joining the photo. She thought the younger girl may have denied Tommy's request, but the truth was, all of the Shelby's considered Arabella family, even if she didn't quite believe it herself.

She quietly made her way into the space between Ada and John, who both grinned down at her, also pleased she was right there with them where she belonged. Arabella smiled at the camera, and the flash soon went off, the brightness blinding her eyes momentarily.

Once the picture had been taken everybody began to disperse into smaller groups, Arabella heading inside beside Michael. The hall was huge, chairs neatly lay out in rows facing the stage. Beside her, Michael began to slow down, the muscle in his jaw tightening as his eyes fixated on something in the distance. "Everything ok?"

But Michael didn't need to respond. Arabella followed his line of sight, her eyes landing on Father Hughes. She felt herself stiffen, her stare hardening as she saw him watch over the young orphaned children sat in the hall, stomach churning in disgust. The sooner he was gone from the world, the better.

"Come on." Arabella took Michael's hand without quite thinking what she was doing. Fortunately, the gesture was enough to distract him from Father Hughes, and he glanced over at her in surprise, eyes soon locking on their hands.

"What are you–"

"Just walk with me," she told him. So Michael did as she instructed, the two of them walking side by side down the aisle to their seats. Michael's hand tightened around Arabella's as they passed Father Hughes, avoiding his watchful stare. They made their way down to the very end of the row, taking their seats furthest away from the priest. "It's all right," she assured him, moving so that she was blocking his sight of Father Hughes. "He won't come near you."

Michael nodded his head slowly, their gazes holding for a few moments longer, Arabella's presence alone beginning to calm him down.

The two of them soon turned their attention to the front of the stage, where Polly had stepped up to address everyone. "Welcome to the opening of the Grace Shelby Institute for non-insured children of the poor," Polly greeted with a smile. "I would very much like you to join me in thanking the man that made the founding of this establishment actually possible. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Thomas Shelby."

Roars of cheers filled the room, and Arabella couldn't help but beam proudly as she clapped her hands. "SPEECH!" Arthur and John both hollered as Tommy handed Charles over to Ada before making his way towards the stage.

"Say it, Tom!" Arthur shouted in encouragement. Tommy took his stand behind the podium, the rest of the room quietening down.

"I didn't come here today to make a speech," Tommy began. "But I will say this, these children are now safe. In our care, they will be safe because we are from the same cold streets as they are."

Arabella glanced over at Michael, whose hardened eyes were fixated on Father Hughes once again. She placed a hand on his knee, turning back to face the front again as Tommy continued his speech.

Michael's pulse spiked at her sudden touch. He turned to face her, but she didn't once look back over at him, smiling softly as she listened to Tommy's speech, as if she didn't have her hand literally placed on Michael's thigh.

"And, in our care," Tommy continued on. "They won't be shipped away to the colonies, or separated from kin, or made to work for men in their various ways. They will grow up here, at home, loved. In Birmingham. Because this is our city."

"By order of the Peaky Blinders!" Arthur chimed in, the crowd erupting into applause again. Arabella moved her hand from Michael's leg, clapping along with everybody else. Everybody in the room rose to their feet, Polly announcing the hymn that they would sing once the applause had died down.

Arabella had noticed Tommy slipping out of the back door, but didn't think too much of it, continuing to quietly sing the words on the sheet in front of her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Michael glancing around the room. She wondered if he was looking for Father Hughes, but when she did a quick sweep of the room herself, she couldn't spot the priest anywhere.

Arabella turned back to tell Michael to relax, but he'd gone. She whipped her head around, eyes scanning the room, until she finally caught him slipping through one of the exit doors. She placed the hymn sheet down on the chair, hurriedly heading after him.

She slipped quietly through the door, almost slamming straight into somebody as she reached the corridor. Arabella stumbled backwards as she looked up, coming face to face with the monster himself. Father John Hughes.

"Careful where you're going there," he spoke as he smiled down at her. Arabella recoiled slightly, his sleazy eyes drifting over her body. She took a step backwards, turning away from him, her eyes landing on Tommy and Michael at the other end of the corridor.

Michael seemed to sense her gaze the moment it fell upon him, turning his head to see her stood beside Father Hughes. His blood almost boiled at the sight, the way that man was staring at her, and he almost started forwards until Arabella subtly lifted her hand, shaking her head to stop him from doing anything he might regret.

Father Hughes began to walk away from her, towards a door in which many of the orphaned children began to rush through. The sight almost knocked Arabella sick as she watched after him, becoming startled by Michael's presence as he suddenly stopped beside her. "You ok?"

She turned her attention towards him, nodding her head. "Yeah, fine."

"Are you sure?" Michael double checked, unconvinced by her answer.

"When you kill him," she began, swallowing thickly as she lowered her voice. "If you want someone by your side, I'll be there."

"Arabella–" Michael began, but she shook her head firmly, the action cutting him off. He saw the determination blazing in her eyes, and the way she'd watched after Father Hughes, looking on in disgust. Not to mention, she was still fuming from what he'd done to Tommy months ago.

Arabella was deadly serious about her offer. "I mean it," she insisted. Michael glanced down at her, their eyes locking "I'll be there."

"Arabella," Tommy interrupted, calling over to the two of them. "Michael." He motioned his head towards the door. Arabella and Michael shared one more look, and Michael lightly placed his hand on the small of Arabella's back, the two of them silently moving towards their boss. "Let's greet our guests."

A/N

They're so protective of each other yet still deny how much they like each other smh